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by tofadeawayagain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Cruciatus, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofadeawayagain/pseuds/tofadeawayagain
Summary: When Andromeda runs away with a Mudblood, Bellatrix's father forces his remaining daughters to marry. Bellatrix is certain her lover, Lucius Malfoy, will come for her hand. But the truth will change her.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange
Comments: 30
Kudos: 47
Collections: Transfiguration: 2020 Round One





	Changed

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2020Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2020Round1) collection. 



> The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> The theme for this round of the competition was Transfiguration and my chosen pairing was Bellatrix Lestrange/Lucius Malfoy.
> 
> Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity.

He’d come for her. She could see his hair gleaming in the weak autumn sun, rippling in the breeze as he strolled through the gardens with her father. She shifted on the piano bench, watching the way he moved, the smooth grace with which he tilted his head to the side. So familiar.

She longed to run her lips up the smooth column of his neck, to brush his flaxen hair aside and whisper in his ear. Sweet words. Dirty words. Words that would make his breath catch and his hands clutch tight to her waist. Tight enough that it felt like he’d never let her go.

They were laughing now, gesturing as they nodded. His hands moved easily through the air. Graceful, but economic – no movement wasted. He was calculated, that way. So self-assured. She loved that about him.

Loved his hands in her curls. On her body. His hands – so skillful, so tender. Focused. Hers.

She hadn’t felt those hands in weeks. After Andromeda’s vanishing act and the embarrassment of her wedding announcements in the papers, she’d been kept on a short leash. Andromeda had lied, had said she’d been supporting the cause before she’d blighted their family tree. It was for the good of the family, her father said. For the sake of purity. He couldn’t risk his eldest daughter, his brightest star. And so, she’d been denied her freedom, unable to leave the family home to take her spot in the circle at the Lord’s weekly meetings. Her spot at his side. Her spot in his bed afterward, hidden away with him in their usual room at a secluded seaside inn near Brighton. She hadn’t felt the warmth of his breath against her mouth, hadn’t clung to his strong shoulders as she hovered astride his body. Hadn’t reveled in the sound of his groan in her ear as he emptied himself inside her and brought her to bliss.

But he’d come for her. He was here. Soon, she’d be in his arms again, free to stand at his side. Free to touch his arm or hold his hand. Fiancée instead of school-friend.

Multiple suitors had come calling since her father had begun searching for suitable husbands. She knew some of them from school. Others were much older – acquaintances at best, men she’d danced with once or twice at holiday parties. Letters had come from the younger suitors. She’d read some of them, smiling at the thought of Narcissa, still tucked away at Hogwarts, young men falling at her feet.

She didn’t care about any of the others. He was the only one she wanted.

And he’d come for her.

* * *

She sat at her dressing table and looked at her reflection, a powder brush poised in her hand.

Her intended would be arriving soon to meet with her father and finalize the marriage details. She was to meet them downstairs for a celebratory dinner. An opportunity to meet the gentleman and get acquainted before wedding preparations began. It was an old tradition, but unnecessary in this case. She was well-acquainted with her intended already. Knew every inch of him, intimately.

Her father didn’t need to know just how intimately, she supposed.

She looked at herself – really looked. What would Lucius see when she descended the staircase? Beyond the dark curls that she’d tamed into an elegant chignon, her dark eyes lined with kohl – dramatic and yet demure – and the deep blue silk crepe dress draped over her lithe frame… what would he see?

She put the powder brush down, content with the highlights on her high cheekbones.

What did she want him to see?

She wanted him to see beyond her pretty face, beyond her bloodlines and her social status. She wanted him to see her as he did when they were alone together. To see her dedication and loyalty. Her devotion to him.

A knock sounded at the door, and her mother peeked inside. “Come Bella.” The smile on the woman's face erased her mother’s usually stern persona. She looked like a different woman altogether, Bella thought. Like a mum instead of just a mother. It was disquieting.

Bella stood from the table and slid her feet into her heeled shoes. Smiled at her reflection in the mirror, and made her way toward the door.

At the top of the staircase, her mother reached out and looped their arms together. “He’ll make a fine match for you, Bellatrix.”

She smiled widely, holding tightly to the railing on one side. She couldn’t wait to see him. To feel his arms around her again. It had been so long since she was engulfed in his arms, his scent, his body…

As they rounded the curve in the staircase, she came to a sudden stop. Gripped her mother’s arm like a vice.

It wasn’t Lucius standing with her father at the foot of the stairs.

It was Rodolphus Lestrange.

* * *

She’d sent letter after letter to him in Wiltshire, with no reply. Tried to reach him with the Floo, with no response. Tried to sneak out of the house, but the blood wards her father had placed were impenetrable. She wanted to see him, to run away together before the bond was sealed. Why had her father turned him away? Why had he chosen Lestrange, a man who preferred the company of his younger brother to that of any woman, if the rumors were true?

Lucius had come for her. She’d seen him. She was his, had always been his, would forever be his. Her father’s little contract wouldn’t get in the way of that. She wouldn’t let it.

She thought about contacting Andromeda. Her sister knew about her and Lucius, had seen them sneaking off together in school. Had helped her sneak off to meet him on various occasions when they’d returned home. Andromeda could help, she knew it. But would Lucius allow her to help, after she’d gone and married a Mudblood? Surely he would…

* * *

She’d sent a missive to her sister with the family owl, begging her to contact Lucius and arrange a meeting. The ceremony would occur in two short weeks, and she was running out of time.

He still hadn’t responded to her attempts at communication, and she wanted to be sure that he knew she’d had nothing to do with this decision, that she still wanted him, had always wanted him, and if he’d only come for her they could make an Unbreakable Vow and be free of all this nonsense.

They could be together again.

* * *

Andromeda’s answer came the night before the ceremony. Her hands were shaking so badly that she cut her finger on the parchment as she opened it. She’d thought they were out of time, thought that Andromeda had chosen not to help, after all…

It was a short reply.

_My dearest Bella,_

_If I could be there to hold your hand tomorrow, I would be. You’ll make a beautiful bride. You are better off without the treacherous snake you long for. Let him slither away, Bella, into a hole of his own making._

_Andromeda_

* * *

During the preparations, she longed for her sister. Narcissa was there, twittering about and worrying about making a good impression for her own fiancé, but it wasn’t the same. Narcissa would never look outside herself for long enough to see what Andromeda would have known immediately. Her heart broke a little more. Perhaps she’d been wrong to disown her sister. Perhaps…

She wished Andromeda had explained what she’d said about Lucius. About letting him slither away. What did she know? Why hadn’t her sister just told her?

* * *

There were hundreds of guests, but as she stood at the dais, watched the bond her father had agreed to sinking into her skin, she couldn’t bring herself to look at them.

She felt numb. Distant. Fragile, like fresh sheets of ice on a pond. Ready to crack with the slightest pressure.

She shook hand after hand as well-wishers approached the dais following the ceremony. The faces passing before her were like a blur. Except for two.

Narcissa was beaming, clinging to his arm. Like she belonged there. Like she owned him. “Bella, I believe you were at school with Lucius?”

She could only nod. Could only stare up at him in bewilderment as he reached out to shake Rodolphus’ hand and offer congratulations.

He’d come for _her_.

Like ice, she shattered.

* * *

Her marriage was one of convenience. Rodolphus had made that very clear. He needed a pureblooded wife so that he could inherit the family estate, and she needed a pureblooded husband who would accept a soiled woman.

Her father had known, it turned out. She wondered if he knew who’d soiled her. If he’d given Narcissa to him, anyway, just to spite his eldest daughter for being another disappointment. It was certainly something he’d do.

She _had_ been a fool for disowning her sister, she knew that now. But there’d be no getting back into Andromeda’s good graces, not after the things she’d done at the behest of the Dark Lord.

When she tortured someone, she liked to imagine it was Lucius lying on the ground, flinching, scrambling away from the bite of her wand. He was there, sometimes, on the missions. Watched her torturing people for hours on end. She’d started to enjoy it, the torturing and the look on his face while she did it, when she laughed. It felt like retribution.

She liked to hold his gaze while she did it. While screams rang through the air, like her own in her head. Liked to whisper into his mind as she twisted the wand and pushed the pain deeper, deeper, deeper.

_Do you like what you’ve changed me into?_


End file.
